Breakfast is Served
by jeromevaleska
Summary: Jerome eats you out on the table in Theo's penthouse, not caring who hears or sees.
All it took was one glance. As you leaned across the breakfast table for your plate, Jerome seized your wrist and yanked you hard across the surface, your skidding knees bumping the cups and dishes to the floor with a loud, jarring shatter that most certainly didn't go unheard by the others in the penthouse. His hands came to rest on either side of you, chest pressing up against yours through the thin material of your shirt.

He joined his mouth urgently to yours, and you breathed heavily through your nose as you returned the kiss. Body humming as your tongues lashed out at each other, pressing and pulling as your lips grew raw beneath the intensity of his kiss. It had been building up for a week now – all of your teasing and coquetry had finally paid off. With his hands whisking beneath your top, he eased the clothing above your breasts, only parting from your mouth so he could tear it off your lithe, quivering frame. His lips twisted up in an appreciative smirk before his hands roamed up your back, light as feathers before a loud ripping noise told you that your bra was beyond repair. You rolled your eyes playfully at his antics.

"You owe me new undergarments," you huffed, he hummed in appreciation as your breasts bounced at your huff. He licked his lips, looking up to you for approval, which you gave in the form of a nod and a breathy moan as his breath washed over your now pert nipples. When his mouth closed over one, you cried out, grasping his shoulders and leaning further into him, back arching as his other hand reached up to roll your nipple between his long fingers. You felt yourself sliding deeper into the sensations he was providing you with, body shaking as his tongue slid in circles around your raised flesh.

"Jerome," you whimpered, rubbing your hips into his hard stomach, desperately searching for some friction. You were close to begging when he switched to your other breast. Your head fell back as your hair brushed the table, curling against your already sweaty back. He chuckled in amusement as you moaned loudly, writhing uncontrollably beneath him. You slipped your fingers underneath his robe, your nails digging into his shoulders so tightly that they were biting his skin.

He leaned up to fiercely reclaim your mouth and tore at your tiny, high-waisted shorts and bottoms, leaving you naked and breathless as his lips journeyed down toward the column of your throat, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there. Between your legs, he massaged your wetness with his talented fingers and laved over the mark he had just made on your neck.

"You don't mind if I dig right in, right?" he whispered into your ear, his lips dangerously close, rubbing up against the sensitive outer shell, making a shiver rush across your spine. His nose slid slowly down the slope of your neck, nudging away your locks of hair to press a hot, wet kiss against the joining of your neck and shoulder. Your heart was pounding now, his slow, calculated movements were sending shockwaves throughout your body, and every part of you was pulsing with desire.

"Right here, right now? Someone's gonna come and see," you giggled, suddenly it came rushing back to you that you were in the kitchen on the table where literally anyone could walk in and see you two, and he merely laughed in response.

"That's kinda the point," he told you, "don't want them forgetting even for a second who you belong to," he chuckled, and the rumbling of his chest sent ripples through your body, and you instinctively pressed closer to him, seeking friction to ease that delicious pounding. You drew in a sharp breath, your head spinning at his musky scent overpowering yours.

"Wha-" he cut you off by planting a bruising kiss on your lips, his left hand resting on your hip, squeezing tightly as he guided you as close as possible. You wailed helplessly upon the prickling sensation, your hands reaching up and around his neck, running your fingers across the hair at the nape of it. You were more than sure everyone in the building could hear you now.

His eyes were dark and feral as he began trailing kisses toward your breasts, down your navel, and then resting eagerly between your open legs. With a deep growl, he eased himself into your heat.

"Perfect for breakfast," he purred.

With your nails dragging across his scalp, your bare heels dug into his back and you pitched your head back. Several soft, breathy gasps spilled from your lips, causing your chest to rise and fall shallowly. "Jerome," you weakly pleaded, "Jerome..."

He responded by devouring you more desperately as you ground your glistening slit into his feverishly sucking mouth. The vibrations did amazing things to your body, and it only made you crave more. The motions of his tongue caused your hips to rock and bump into his face at a rapid pace, his eyes raised up to meet yours, sparkling with mirth as he reveled in every sound he heard from you.

Each glide of his tongue earned him another cry of pleasure, and he added two fingers to your entrance, tracing along the mouth of you before inserting them with a rough, intensive twist. You yelped and arched your trembling back almost immediately. His tongue teased your clit while his harsh, driving fingers began to scissor and open you up nice and deep, your sweet juices invigorating him as he immersed himself into your hot, fragrant wetness.

He probed curiously into your wet heat, rolling his tongue against your clit before darting his digits deeply inside. Your heels dug in further, and with several languid, pleasurable swipes of his tongue, he fluctuated between fast and hard to slow and soft. The idea was to keep you as tensed as a wire ready to be plucked. Desperate and flustered, your face turned bright pink as you fisted his hair and gave a fierce, demanding yank. He responded with a pleased groan into your sex, his hand driving more strongly between your legs as he set a tight suction on your clit.

Your calf muscles tensed and you found your body jotting against the tabletop each time he gave a firm, vigorous thrust of his fingers. You bucked your hips upward, encouraging him to slide his tongue all over your slick passage as a loud moan pulled from the depths of your throat.

Then a familiar figure made their way into the kitchen, though you and Jerome both didn't recognize it until you heard the clearing of someone's throat.

"What do you think you're doing, Jerome?" Theo drew a short sigh as he glanced down at the ginger whose face was buried between your thighs. You kept your eyes shut tightly as to concentrate on the ginger's warm tongue instead of the unwanted guest in the room, you were too lost in your pleasure to focus on anything else.

He stopped for a moment to turn back at Theo, a grin plastered on his face, and his chin dripping with your arousal when he replied, "What does it look like? I'm having breakfast," he told him, laughing loudly before he drove back into your wet sex.

"It's really inconsiderate. I do recall that the two of you share a room. We have guests here, it's important that you show respect," he replied in a vexed tone, and Tabitha was quick to step by, joining her brother's side, glancing back at you two as she shook her head.

"They're so messy, I just cleaned that table. So fucking rude," she hissed. She grimaced before she walked away with Theo, you vaguely heard her say in the halls, "Can we just kick them both out already?"

What just occurred was a bit of a blur because you allowed yourself to indulge all the pleasant attention you were so gracefully given that it all went in one ear and out the other. You bucked harder against his mouth as he drew strange patterns with his hot mouth, your moans grew louder and more drawn out, before you were calling out his name, and with one last nip you became undone.

The structure wobbled beneath your weight and you screamed, seeing proverbial stars as he skillfully drove you over the edge. Clutching at his shoulders between your nails, you whimpered and shook as you harshly rolled your hips into his face, your sex contracting around his fingers as he continued to thrust into your budding orgasm.

Toes curling and body squirming, you clawed at his neck and shoulders until with a long, sweetly drawn-out sigh, you melted into stillness against the tabletop. He hummed and kissed along the inside of your upper thigh. Each soft, barely there peck was met with teeth and tongue as he devoured the warm, sticky essence on your skin. When he was certain you were sated, he withdrew from between your legs and pulled you forward by the hips, resting his forehead against yours before kissing you softly.

You marveled at the contrast between man and monster – by how easily he could switch from dark and dangerous to soft and loving.

"Looks like you've got a mess to clean up," you quipped, draping your arms over his shoulders. When he moved to duck between your legs, you laughed and lightly pushed on his chest. "I meant the table-" your sentence was cut off mid-way when his mouth latched onto your clit as you squealed and hooked a leg over his shoulder, ignoring you.

The rest of the morning was spent making various 'messes' in the kitchen.


End file.
